Freyr, Gerd, and Awkwardness
by Backroads
Summary: Ruffnut.  Fishlegs.  Thoughts and incidents during a wedding night.  Companion to "Irritation, Hatred, and Something Else".


_This is a companion to Irritation, Hatred, and Something Else. It was requested months and months ago, by FluffyOkami, to whom this is therefore dedicated._

_This is rated M soley for subject material. Consider it lite-M/high T._

* * *

Ruffnut was not going to admit she felt a little dizzy. Though would have been, on top of everything else, weird. Weirder than weird. Well, maybe not that weird. The day had been long, bizarre, and a lot more than she was ready to take in. Or ever would be able to take in. Mentioning that she felt dizzy would only upset the precarious balance of the situation.

Right now, it was all right. Right now was pretty much what she had expected.

Or at least she thought so. Current expectations were pretty vague to her at the moment.

She was married. Somewhere along the greyer areas of reality, she had managed to get married. Wed. Hitched. Every term for the word that put together the basic unit of society.

It was so freaking stupid.

Then again, who was she to complain against kissing? Kissing was fun, definitely doable. Fishlegs wasn't bad at it. At least, she didn't think so. It wasn't like she had ever really kissed any other guys. This was nice. She could see the many perks of kissing, all becoming clear.

She could not deny that the kissing was pretty good. Fishlegs did not slobber. She had sort of expected him to slobber and was rather amused that it didn't happen; further amused with the following epiphany that she had always assumed all guys were slobbery kissers. Maybe the remaining majority were slobbery kissers.

Lucky her for not getting one of them as her husband.

Though she did have to wonder how she was doing. Did she slobber? She couldn't feel much slobber. Just lots and lots of kissing that grew more intense with each passing moment despite the fact she was clueless as to why. But maybe she was in complete denial.

Maybe at the next possible opportunity Fishlegs would tell the entire village she was a slobbery kisser. Oh, but she would find a dozen weapons to stick into his gut if he even tried that.

Maybe she was crazy and paranoid. Crazy was her obvious nature, but she had never thought of herself as particularly paranoid until then. In a bed that now half belonged to her, with Fishlegs practically on top of her. All the gods of Asgard, what a perfect time to be paranoid.

Except the paranoia ended as her main source of panic. Perhaps the dizziness and a low tolerance for wedding day mead was blurring any strong fearful emotions and opening up those of pure shock.

The setting. The setting was real. A bed. Not one from her house. Except apparently this was now supposed to be her house. And her bed. But not her own bed nor one she would even share with Tuffnut. Except clearly she and Tuffnut had never done anything like this.

Oh gods. It was her wedding night. And every little detail that suggested.

Maybe she should have enforced beating up the raucous catcallers that had surrounded the house minutes before. That would have been fun. Maybe not the most traditional of wedding night activities, but at least with which she would have been a lot more familiar.

But no. She had spent the day considering the situation and coming to the conclusion of why not, what else was she going to expect out of life? Fishlegs was big and strong and she was pretty sure she could boss him around and bend him to her every whim.

Though he sure was heavy. A good kisser, as far as she could judge, but heavy and on that note it was a little unfair that he had wound up leaning entirely on top of her.

She opened her eyes, briefly wondering if that were acceptable kissing behavior. His eyes were closed, and he looked really into kissing her. It was… really cute. Hot, actually.

She couldn't lie that she was pretty into the kissing as well.

"So you like kissing?" Fishlegs asked breathlessly as he pulled away from her.

"Oh, yeah." Didn't seem necessarily the best reply but her flirting skills weren't up to where they could be. Or were they? She was further along than she had ever been and according to every womanly talk she had ever received it wasn't long before she would be going further. "You're a good kisser." Did she sound as matter-of-fact as she thought she did?

"Oh. Thanks."

Okay, talking was just pure awkwardness. Though what had been awkward was tossing off her night dress like she had. Like some common whore. Not a proper married woman.

Though it had seemed like a good idea at the time. In fact, it still seemed like a good idea. Just awkward. Could things be good and awkward at the same time?

So sometime during the wedding and the feast and maybe awhile after that she had reached the conclusion that she was married and she could probably do worse and there wasn't too many ways she could think of to get around the whole marriage situation. She was going to do this thing right. Any male in Berk was beyond lucky to wind up in a bed with Ruffnut Thorston.

Or whatever her last name was now.

She kissed him back hard, hoping it would get him to shut up.

They both seemed really into the kissing. It wasn't too bad at all.

Except it only made him all the more excited and having someone as big as Fishlegs crushing into one's lungs wasn't necessarily the most comfortable situation. She gasped and pushed away.

His eyes snapped open, wide and panicked. "Are you okay?"

"Exactly how much do you weigh?"

"A lot. Why?"

"You're sort of crushing my lungs."

He sat up, face bewildered. "I can't be crushing your lungs, they're protected by your ribs. I don't mean to be crushing those. I guess… I guess you're kind of pretty and I guess we were kissing…"

She couldn't help but smile. Maybe it was the whole after affects of a wedding but he was kind of a cute. And it was bit late to end this whole mess. Gethjon had failed her miserably in that department. "You are such an idiot."

"I was just trying to say—"

Listening to him wasn't nearly as fun. She was stark naked, she had no idea where she had thrown her nightdress, and her brand new husband was staring at her like he had never seen a naked girl before. Which he probably had not. Though it was kind of dark. What did firelight do for this kind of situation?

Awkwardness continuing. It needed to be ended.

"Oh, never mind," she muttered, this time throwing herself on top of him for another kiss.

He responded quickly enough, though with a somehow interjected "So I guess we are married now."

"Yeah. Lucky us." She felt dizzy. Very dizzy. And feverish. What was making her sick now? She was so not about to get sick on her wedding night.

More kissing was good. "You do think I'm pretty." She put in another kiss.

"Yeah."

She wondered if she should thank him. It was…. Sweet of him. Very sweet.

Suddenly she wanted more of this kissing. She closed her eyes. The bed beneath them was surprisingly soft and she was suddenly feeling very exhausted. Warm and feverish and exhausted. "Maybe you should just take off your clothes and get on with it."

He was strong. She had always assumed as much with his size, but nothing of the sort ever applied like this. She continued kissing him, the only response she could think of that wasn't already happening automatically. It was harder and harder to breathe and it had nothing to do with pressure against her ribs, lungs or anything else like that. She wrapped her arms around his neck, then pulled down over his shoulders. The only thing she could really think of was how she really hoped Freyr and Gerd weren't watching any of this. Observation by deity would just be awkward.

Then again, she had never felt pretty like this.

Maybe this whole marriage thing wouldn't be too bad.

She smiled slightly and kissed him harder. He met her kiss immediately.

And then…

"Oh!"

The headboard shook, and Fishlegs was away from her with a huffing gasp of what she could only recognize as pain. His arm, previously wrapped all the way around her body, nearly smacked her head.

She sat up, dizzy and breathing heavily, blood rushing through every part of her body like a waterfall. Her hips felt like they were on fire and even her legs ached. "What?"

"I smacked my shoulder."

Freyr and Gerd would be so disappointed in all of this. She shook her head and pulled hair from her face. How had her hair managed to get everywhere. "You big baby."

"It hurts!"

Pain in the middle of passion. A big guy like him couldn't handle it?

Maybe they should have just stuck to the kissing. That had been working out.

He collapsed next to her, and her skin tingled where his arm fell against hers. "I think I have a splinter."

"A splinter."

"Yeah."

She couldn't help it. The laugh burst out of her, long and loud and bordering on hysterical. Maybe this day had done a little too much to her. And exhaustion had never been good.

"It hurts!" he protested again.

"You are so dumb."

He sighed. She hoped he was taking in what she had said. He was so dumb for such a smart guy. "I'm probably going to have a bruise in the morning."

That only made her laugh harder.

Laughing that didn't stop until he leaned back over her and kissed her.

Oh. That. Again. Wedding night. He was pretty darn cute.

"I'm still going to insult you."

"Oh." He fell back against the bed.

She sighed and closed her eyes. "So welcome to our wedding night."

"I know."

She laughed again. "I feel dizzy." Curses. She had said she was not going to say that.

"Oh? I'm sorry."

For a long time neither of them said anything. Ruff could hear him breathing. Nothing approaching sleep.

This was it. Married. It had happened. Everything had happened the way it was supposed to. Everything as planned.

Maybe not quite as romantically as she had always hoped.

"Ruff?" Fishlegs asked quietly.

Her husband was speaking to her. Husband. What a bizarre thought. She took a deep breath and slowly released it. "What?"

"Want to try again?"

She resisted another urge to laugh. "Why not?"

Once again they were way too close to the headboard.

**The End**


End file.
